


Faulted Loyalty

by Zombbean



Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: BDSM, Blood, F/M, Hardcore fluff, I will make lots of fluff, Like lots of it, Romance, gore is a possibility, hopefully a slow burn but there's no guarentee, lots of pining after the other cause that shit cute as fuck, lots of super fluff in early on cause it's the brotherhood and they're fuffy as shit to one another, sexy times will ensure, so long as their not going against the tenants anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:42:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombbean/pseuds/Zombbean
Summary: Love takes time. Love is a fleeting pleasure that most do not know what to do with. Love is dangerous, and mysterious, wonderful and warm- but love is also cruel, tangible, and unforgiving. Love will be the death of them- or it could very well be their salvation.





	1. Conspiracy

A rush of wind blew past the dark elf's face- darting from brush to brush within the thick wooded forest. She had little time to waste between her contracts, and each dead drop her Speaker gave her was taken as seriously as the last… however… as of late…

Her dead drops seemed off- though she would not question her superiors abilities and wisdom, there were several things that struck a cord within the last two contracts. 

One- compared to her first two dead drops… the handwriting was different. Now, it could be chocked up to inexperience, or even Lucien being tired… but for two to be so- for lack of a better word- chicken scratched, and then the next two to have wonderfully done calligraphy handwriting to follow? It was very unlikely.

Two- the dead drop contracts from the first two assassinations had given her nothing about her targets in terms of why they wanted them dead. They only listed where they were and how they wanted it done. These last two she’d done however… they’d been detailed in exactly why the targets were wanted dead. Needless information that was not exactly wanted or needed.

Her next target was a merchant by the name of Alval Uvani, a dark elf. Apparently he had a severe honey allergy, and it would paralyze him long enough to slit his throat. But, she prefered the thrill of shooting an arrow coated in home brewed poison through the jugular. This made for terrific practice in both brewing and archery- hence why she’d been tailing him through the woods. 

So why did she hesitate now?

She’d been following him- waiting a whole day for night fall and still she couldn’t bring herself to outright kill the man. Something tugged at her being- preventing her from wanting to slay wandering merchant… it was much like the Cheydinhal sanctuary… Something tugged at her to not slaughter her brothers and sisters there as well… something she couldn’t outright explain… She only hoped delaying a purification in that sanctuary was wise- after all the punishment for disobeying an order could end tragically- though it wasn’t the fear of death that made her worry, but the fear that Lucien would take it as betrayal.

She didn’t do her services for the Night Mother, or for Sithis- and she knew for that she would most surely be damned by them. That mattered little to her- for her killings were still sent to them, and sacrifices were still a regular occurrence. In no way did she ever disrespect them, it was more of a contract of her own- to stay in service to her savior in exchange for providing them with souls- and if that was permitted, then she had no worries. After all, were not all the children of Sithis some form of contracted body?

Another moment of hesitation.  
‘I must speak with Lucien… this feeling of doubt can not go on any longer…’ she let out an exasperated sigh, before holstering her bow, and heading to Fort Farragut.

X x X x X x X

The trip alone was a day's journey- her original position from outside Serpent Hollow Cave to Fort Farragut a long one indeed. 

The outside of the old fort was well hidden, the dangling moss, and fallen columns crumbled with time, and trees over top hiding it well from the small winding road below. Of course, she had often memorized the secret entrance- hidden within the hollow of an old tree- and with a simple push, the trap door revealed a ladder that swooped down directly into the bedroom of Lucien Lachance.

Sliding the cover over the hole once she’d entered, she dropped down onto the cobblestone floor and looked about the room- no Lucien to be found. 

Scouring the chamber, she looked for recent traces of the man- but nothing looked touched from the last time- save for some fresh poison apples, all neatly stacked within a barrel. Approaching the container, she dipped her hand inside to grab one, and watched as the fresh moonlight shone upon it- crisp, sweet, and delicious- as well as deceivingly deadly. An apple such as this would incapacitate the elf for sure- but not kill her. She had years of poison consumption mixed with her mixed with her half Bosmer heritage to make it palatable- although stomach wrenching.

Tucking it back into the barrel, she furrowed her brows. She wasn’t here for apples after all- but for tips or hints as to where-

“How could you?!” a sharp voice hissed into the elves ear as she felt her body being slammed into the cobblestone wall, an arm pinning her to it whilst a dagger stayed close to her neck, a red line forming from the slight pressure.

“Lucien…” a pained look wracked over her face as she tried to get a grip of what exactly was going on.

“Why sister? I have given you nothing but my love and trust and here you are murdering our family!?” A single strand of chocolate hair brushed past his face, and his teeth were gritted in anger. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the gaze from his honey eyes would glaze her in her own blood from the harsh way they cut into her.

She remained silent.

‘Murdering… our family?’ she’d done no such thing… how could she have done it when she was busy executing her targets? She had yet to even cleanse the sanctuary of Cheydinhal!

After what felt like hours, he finally lowered his blade- releasing his hold on the other, and letting her catch her breath, as her heart continued pounding in her throat. All that rage in his eyes…. She had never seen the man so… so angry. It made her gut twist in ways she didn’t want to admit. Nonetheless she bowed down to one knee, hoping for his forgiveness.

“Stand sister… I can tell by the look in your eyes you have no idea what I’m speaking of… and it would seem we’ve both been deceived…” he raised a hand to rub the bridge of his nose, a bit of worry to his features.

“That… was what I came to speak of with you,” she swallowed, before she stood, reaching into her pouch and pulling out the documents with the scribbled handwriting, “Your handwriting… it’s not like the recent dead drops I’ve received…”

For a moment, Lucien was confused- taking the papers he examined them, the lettering being far different from his own. He looked astounded for a moment, before a small sliver of a smile danced over his lips.

“Very good Grace, you’ve noticed your Speaker’s handwriting differing from our imposter here quite well,” he sighed, “Which means that our traitor still lives- and you have yet to clear the Cheydinhal sanctuary my dear,”

Grace nodded, “It’s not that I did not wish to follow your orders dear brother, I swear it- but rather, I do not think our traitor is within the hall… they all don’t have the ill intent I’ve come to learn in my years of travel… they all treat me as family, and speak nothing but kind words of you,” she didn’t know how to word her statements any more clearly- and at this point would soon give in and slaughter them if Lucien had any doubts, which hurt a slight bit more than she’d care to admit.

For Grace respected Lucien more so than the brotherhood, the Night Mother, and Sithis himself- and she owed him her life- but that was a memory for another time.

The Speaker remained silent yet again for longer than the night seemed negotiable. Hands preening over the pages she’d handed him, and her statement seeming to be taken considerably to heart. With one more flip of the page, he nodded his contentment.

“Your instincts led you to stop yourself from killing another of our siblings… did it not?” he inquired, settling the papers down upon his oaken desk.

Grace nodded, “My instinct, and the evidence I’ve gathered… I regret that I… seem to have harmed two of our siblings already, and I hope that I can somehow earn forgiveness from you,” her voice was steady, and calm- despite the bullets of sweat that ebbed from her brow.

Lucien seemed to almost float back over to the elf, looping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a hug, “My dear, sweet sister… it is not you whom is in the wrong but the traitor that has used you… you should bear no shame, and know that the Wrath of Sithis shall not be upon you for your actions… but, we have more important things at hand,” his tone was smooth, and deep as he spoke, but as he released her from his embrace, his tone turned more serious- it’s baritone like rumble returning to normal.

“Yes, I fear that… that it may not be myself that they blame for the atrocity,” the elf followed behind Lucien, not missing a step behind the taller man.

“And you are not wrong... for you see- our fellow brother and sisters blame me for what has happened, and soon their wrath shall be upon me… I am counting on you my dear Silencer, to find more evidence of this treachery,” there was worry to his voice, and this in turn worried the other.

“You… they know where your hideout is… correct? I… have a home on the waterfront of the Imperial city, they wouldn’t think to look for you there… you could hide there until I bring back the evidence you seek,” Grace offered, her head spinning for answers she didn’t have.

Lucien seemed shocked by the offer, but shook his head in compliance, “Yes, that… would be best- they think I am using you for my own deeds… so your home would prove to be one of the last places they’d look… this could buy us precious time we wouldn’t otherwise have,”

A look of relief washed over her face. Tucking her hand into her pocket once again, she pulled out a small silver key and handed it over to the Speaker, “Be safe, my brother, and may the shadows hide you- I will come with evidence as soon as I can… but first I must ask… was there… ever a person in our sanctuary? Before I joined…?”

The question was an odd one- and seemed off topic for as serious as the situation was. Lucien assumed the other had their reasons, and once he thought about it… the answer clicked. Like a pick that had hit the last sweet spot of a lock, the answers all fell into place for the assassin.

“Mathieu Bellamont….” he spoke softly, his voice seemingly seething with an almost silent rage, “He… you suspect he is the traitor… don’t you?”

“I know not whom this Bellamont is… but yes…,” the elf could only hope he understood.

“It… makes sense…. This is why you didn’t perform a purification of the Cheydinhal sanctuary yet… you believed your siblings to be innocent- for Bellamont had left shortly before your arrival into our brotherhood… he’d just been promoted… and most importantly- was under my care in that sanctuary,”

There was a flicker of a smile from Lucien, as if to confirm that he’d seen exactly what she was thinking. The whole conspiracy wrapped up with a nice bloody bow- but for what reason was still a mystery, and without proof would only cause more of a disturbance and an even harsher punishment than he was bound to receive.

Lucien placed his hand on the shorter’s shoulder, and his eyes looked almost pleading, “Without evidence- we have no way of clearing my name and bringing to head the true traitor… so hear my request-”

Grace agreed, a simple nod being her reply- she’d sworn to serve him after all, no matter what the request was, or what he asked.

The ever warm smile he wore around his siblings shone once more, and Grace found herself calmed when he spoke, “Travel to Anvil- there, you will need to look for evidence against Bellamont- he makes his home on the southern shore within the lighthouse- please dear sister… you must do this for me- so we may save the brotherhood!”

With a nod, she agreed, “I will, no worries brother- now please, make your way to my home in the Imperial City, I will return with proof of Bellamont’s treachery!”


	2. Split

Grace began to run as fast as her legs could carry her. Eyes as light and fair as crystals in the blue hues of a river, they saw through the hindering darkness, and assisted her in traversing the treacherous landscape. She had very few precious hours- or if she was lucky days. The trip to Anvil, even at the speed she was running, would take two days to get there and back. This pressed her on moreso, making her push herself until her lungs ached for air. She had to save him- she owed him that much.

Luckily, though the trip seemed to have taken forever, she soon found the small city of Anvil. Panting, she gazed around the city, small and few people in between- it looked like a pleasant little town- full of white brick and fancy houses. But even the sweet little towns hid their dark secrets, and this one was no exception. 

Forcing her body forward, the lack of sleep and food finally catching up to her, she made her way to the lighthouse in plain view. The best hiding places were the most obvious, and this one was on the edge of town, with a literal beacon of hope.

Within moments, she’d arrived at the front door to the lighthouse and wandered inside. It didn’t look the part of a place a brotherhood member would reside… But again, looks can be deceiving. 

Several books and papers were scattered on a nearby desk next to a bookcase, and atop them was a set of keys. Snagging them up, she continued her search of the premises… damnit! Where the hell was Bellamont!? She’d gut the little traitor herself for trying to kill her Speaker!

That was when she heard a noise from below, and her eyes snapped to the floorboards. Kneeling down, she pressed her ear to the hardwood floor and closed her eyes…

There was scuffling below, growling and upset sounds from the make of it…. A basement or a cellar of a sort? She would have to take a look outside.  
X x X x X x  
Lucien had made his way to Grace’s home by the Imperial City, the run down shack making a perfect hideaway. No one would think to look there! Though, it did leave Lucien to wonder why his Silencer would choose such a run down shack when, with the gold she was earning, she could afford much better. He could only rack it up to it being a great way to hide oneself.

The inside was shabby, with hardly anything decorating the inside. A few furs on the floor as rugs, a rather large bed perhaps she tossed and turned in her sleep, since she didn’t take up much room from what he’d seen. There were several fur pillows laying atop it, making it appear to resemble a nest of sorts. The firepit had been stoked long ago- obviously since she wasn’t home often.

What caught his attention the most however, was an array of different arrows, each dipped in dried crimson- set on a shelf above her fireplace. Perhaps from special kills? For whatever reason they seemed to make excellent decor to the poor shabby house.

Settling in for the night, the Speaker removed his robes and folded them, before tucking them inside one of the fur pillows for safe keeping- should he need to tuck himself away somewhere it would be easier to move without them hindering his movements- and make it easier to escape his siblings- as he feared actually harming his family.

Perhaps fear wasn’t the word…

Invoking the wrath of Sithis was not something he wished upon himself, as he knew none of them were traitors. Though, while he did care for his siblings, his own well being came first, and above his, the Night Mother and Sithis himself. He did have one soft spot left however, and that soft spot was currently trying to prove his innocence.

A soft smile rode his lips at the thought- his loyal Silencer and sister… Out to prove that he was indeed not at fault for the happenings around them. The big question… was how much time did they have left, and would she make it back in time?

X x X x X x

Hissing, Grace’s hand shook, gripping the needle and thread from her pouch, she dug the needle into her arm and tied the first knot to secure it. Following through she paced, one… two…. One…. two…

She’d been careless in her rush to see what was in the cellar. A wolf had been caged below, and once she’d opened the door, the beast had flown through in a violent rage to unleash it’s unholy anger upon the elf. It tore through her shoulder like paper before she’d taken an arrow and impaled it through the eyeball, and surely into it’s cerebrum.

She didn’t have time to rest. She had to move.

Finishing up the stitches, she stored away her items before staggering into the room once guarded by the feral animal- and what a room it was.

Inside was blood splattered in every which way- from wall to wall, to even coating the ceiling in dried crimson. Some fresh, some old, and the smell simply horrible. She had to be wary of her step, else risk tripping over dismembered carcassess, the entrails strewn about the floor like party streamers. Tiptoeing through the gore, she had trouble keeping quiet as the sticky sloshing sound stuck to her feet.

As she crept a bit further in, she did notice something quite odd… a shrine was inside- dimly lit by candle- and a woman’s head rested upon a silver tray with flowers scattered around it. Her brow arched, ‘How odd…’ Walking towards the strange altar, she found a journal in slight disarray, the corners fraying, and bloody fingerprints staining the cover and edges. 

Taking the journal in hand she turned it over in her fingers before flipping open the cover and fingering the pages. Inside she found information regarding everything she and LaChance had feared.... Bellamont was trying to take out the brotherhood from the inside- he’d slithered his way into the sanctuaries, and now he planned on ridding the world of the Dark Brotherhood, and even worse- her own Speaker, Lucien himself. 

Slamming the book shut, she could feel the rage and anger seethed through her digits, which made her bow fingers twitch- she’d kill him, and finish the bastard off… luckily she hadn’t gotten rid of too many brothers and sisters on this sad little man’s behalf… but even then, perhaps she could still save Lucien? She’d make a spectacle of Belmont's death- and hand over the evidence for LaChance’s safety… she had to, it was the only way she could repay him for all he’d done.

Bolting out of the lighthouse she began her long journey back- though this time she’d be going to the outskirts of the Imperial city to her home there. It wasn’t as long a trip, and she could make it before sunrise with enough pacing and speed. Although she was already tired she couldn’t simply rest, she needed to press on.

X x X x X x X

Lucien had settled himself in the corner of the room on the bed, his back tucked into the nook of said corner as he awaited his Silencer’s return. Dark eyes skimmed the shadows, and sharp ears listened for any hint at his sibling's arrival. Of course periodically he’d hear some bit of scuffle outside- nothing unordinary- as it was the poorer side of the city. Many a fight were held at night, hidden from the prying eyes of the guardsmen- who oddly enough never seemed to patrol this area.

Lucien felt his eyes grow heavy as he fought sleep, having been up for nearly three days in his search for his Silencer, and then his trip here. His body ached for it, and still he fought it. 

However, the tiredness of his body soon won over as he drifted off to sleep.

X x X x X x X

Sunlight.

Bright sunlight flittered through the trees as Grace’s eyes fluttered open, and a groan left her throat. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around to see she’d fallen down one of the many small cliffs and into a pile of dead leaves. 

‘What was I…’ she stopped mid thought before her head snapped up, and she looked to the sky, ‘Daytime…? Damn it! Lucien!’

Hobbling to her feet, she made sure to secure the book she’d been carrying in her pant’s pouch before running full speed towards the Imperial City once more. How could she have been so careless!? Biting her lip in frustration, she could taste the copper of the new wound. She prayed that Lucien was still alive- for she’d yet to repay her debt.

When she finally arrived to her home she found the door open a slight bit, the hinges having been busted off the small home. Panicked, the elf began to shuffle into her home to see what little she owned in disarray- spots of blood decorated the floor, and what little furniture she had broken in a struggle. She swallowed the forming lump in her throat, trying to remain calm- being upset and worried about small things would only prove to cause her to make mistakes- something she couldn’t afford.

Settling herself to the floor she looked for evidence, anything that could lead her there… and after a moment she found LaChance’s clothes stuffed into a pillow on her bed, and began to shuffle through it. The old letters she’d given him, a few poison apples… and a letter addressed to her.

Pulling open the letter, she read the single sentence upon the page, and furrowed her brows, “Return to where the talon first tore families apart,”

“Return to… what…?” turning the paper over in her hands she saw nothing else on the paper… but…. What did Lucien mean?

She thought back to previous conversations, previous small bits of precious information they’d shared…

‘Welcome to our family… take this with my love... ‘ these were a few things that ran through her head…. And then it struck her, ‘Every Speaker has a Silencer- a nail, a claw, a talon,’

She was a talon. But the meaning ‘first tore flesh’ was still vague… when did she first tear flesh? It couldn’t have been her previous assassination contracts back when she was with the other lower level brotherhood members… she wasn’t a talon then. Which meant she’d be going to where she’d torn a family apart piece by piece as a Silencer- at Applewatch. Ironic really…. Considering the circumstances.

Tucking away Lucien’s items away into a satchel, she tossed it over her shoulder and onto her back before taking off. 

X x X x X x

Lucien tried to fight off his siblings, but he had been caught off guard, and now he was bound and being dragged presumably to his death. He didn’t fight it any longer once he was bound, and only hoped the mercy of Sithis would bring him ecstasy rather than the long and grueling torture that was to come- had he proven himself so loyal? He would soon find out, or so it seemed.

Applewatch was the place that would be his tomb, his final resting place, and as he felt his body being tugged towards the small cabin, he could only close his eyes and sigh. Soon it would be over, and he would be in the Void with the rest of his fallen brothers and sisters.

“Lucien… how could you… your own kin! Trying to destroy the brotherhood from the inside… you know the punishment, my poor deluded brother…” a wood elf growled low, his cloaked figure a bit different than the other three that stood around him.

“I told you, I was not the traitor… they are still amongst us Ungolim… and I pity you, may the Dread Lord have mercy on you all,” he spat, his eyes fixated on the other.

They had taken him to Applewatch as he presumed they would, far enough away from the Imperial City that their disturbance would not be sought out anywhere near their current position. His siblings also had a sort of love for irony, and his love for apples made the small apple farm a decent resting place. Feeling the tug of his clothing as they tore into flesh with daggers as sharp and deadly as night- he hissed, and let out a groan. It would seem Sithis had given him at least some solace in his death- in that pain would drip away into ecstasy… but that wouldn’t stop the initial pain in the slightest. 

Bound with hands behind his back they tied his feet in strong rope- making escape even more impossible than before. The blood was soon rushing to his skull, and the pounding of blood in his ears echoed like a drum. Closing his eyes a moment, he could hear the dull voices of the others within the room- and his body now lay naked and bare for them to tear into like ravenous animals if they so desired- and he knew of one who craved the taste of flesh. His end would not be pleasant.

Bellemont was the first to approach, “Shall I make the first lethal cut?” he gave a bit of a dark chuckle, running the tip of the blade from Lucien’s thigh to his chest, an angry red mark lacing across his skin in it’s wake.

Lucien pulled at his bindings, wanting desperately to free himself and punch the traitorous bastard in his teeth. A snarl leaving the man’s throat, he twisted again, only to have Bellamont drive the blade right into his liver- a definite fatal blow if left untreated- and he knew, that treatment would never come.

“Lovely… how the blood flows so freely through this area… dark… black crimson perhaps? Oh but I’m going to enjoy carving you u-” Bellamont’s words were cut off by an arrow shooting through the back of his neck and out his throat, stuck within the traitor’s body.

Bellamont did not die a quick death, his hands grasping at the arrow in a desperate attempt to remove it- body shaking and convulsing with the effects of the poison that tipped the arrow as it coursed through his body. There was a gurgling scream as the man tugged the arrow free, and rosey pools of blood ebbed from his throat with white foam mixed within. In a matter of minutes, he lay motionless on the floor, and the eyes of the hand were upon the intruder.

“Lucien… LaChance… is innocent,” the elf growled, winded from her run.

Her eyes flickered to the nude LaChance, his body hanging upside down and suspended in air- and breathing. He was still alive- but from the looks of his wound… not for long…

Before she could speak a word, the members of the hand were upon her, moving in sync as they tried to cut her down where they stood, “LaChance wasn’t the traitor…? It was his Silencer all along!” Ungolim barked, eyes fueled with anger. 

Good. That would help Lachance and give him the time he needed to recover, and be well. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

A dagger buried itself in Grace's already wounded shoulder, drawing fresh blood from it. Crying out in anger and pain she kicked her sibling away in an attempt to escape, another dagger coming for her face. 

Like a deadly dance she evaded each blade, her movements causing her to catch only another three cuts to her face underneath her eye and down to her jaw. She had to escape, but not without giving Lachance the evidence he needed.

Tossing her bag towards the area of treason, Grace hoped that it would be enough- before exiting the building, and running for her life.


	3. Revelation

Lucien had been watching everything in slow motion as it happened. The dead Bellamont, the fight and the tossing of her bag… before Grace had disappeared. A black hand member- a sister- had stayed behind to free him. Gently lowering his body and unbinding his hands and feet, she took a potion from her person and gave it to the dazed brother on her lap.

“Lucien…. It’s Arquen… stay with me… and dear brother please forgive me… we thought the traitor was you, but now we see that the traitor must’ve been…” she started a moment, before Lucien waved off her words.

Sitting up, he placed a hand over his recent knife injury, watching as the wound healed up, and left nothing but a light white scar. Fingering the tender flesh, he groaned, looking to his tattered and torn clothing before looking to the bag that Grace had tossed within the room… she wouldn’t have done so without reason.

Gripping the bag he opened it to reveal his black robes, and a journal. She had gotten more than he’d asked for, and the clever little elf created the distraction he’d needed to get himself fixed up…

“Lucien… what’ve you got there?” Arquen asked, pointing towards the book in hand.

Flipping through the pages, he handed the book to the other, “Exactly what I was searching for- now read it! They’ll need more than my word if we’re to stop them!” he growled, tugging his midnight black pants on, before pulling his robe on as well. 

Arquen’s eyes widened as she flipped through the traitorous Bellamont’s journal, discovering everything that they’d feared- only suspecting the wrong people. Bellamont was behind the murders… all of them- and even went as far as using Lucien’s Silencer as an assistant in crime against the brotherhood…

“We have no time to lose! We have to catch up with them before they-” he stopped, realizing how worried he actually was for his Silencer- it was safe to assume that he’d grown attached to the young Silencer- for normally he’d be less concerned for the wellbeing of someone who was disposable.

But his Silencer... this young assassin , displayed something of a different kind of loyalty altogether. The kind he’d only known between the Night Mother herself and Sithis, and this made her invaluable to the brotherhood. She fulfilled everything perfectly; to each loose of her arrow, and when he thought about it…

During the commotion of the fight inside, not once did she draw a blade, or her bow to cull the siblings that resided within the room- save for the traitor Bellamont- who died in a pool of his own mess. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing someone so dedicated to their cause.

Darting into the dark of the night, he followed the trail of blood that had to have come from Grace’s wounds. She would be exhausted and no doubt, not last much longer. 

Through the woods and trees, through the winding forest, into a clearing where he found his siblings surrounding the injured elf. Her body refusing to fall, and her mouth shut tight as she was being spoken too.

“Why did you turn against your family sister!? Why did you betray the brotherhood!?” another brother spat out in disgust, his blade already red with the stains of her blood.

Grace did not answer, her brows furrowing, and silence remaining her companion. She owed them no answers, and only lived to serve Lucien- and through him Sithis. She would not speak ill of the Night Mother, despite her not informing the Listener of the treacherous Bellamont, for Grace knew she had her reasons. She would not spill her loyalty, or her reasons for what she’d done; For they were reasons of her Speaker, and she would not give him up. Grabbing the journal was an order- technically- and it held her reasons for her supposed betrayal in it’s pages, which were originally blamed to Lucien. When she stole said journal, the brother she had taken it from had long since abandoned the tenants and their meaning- rendering them null and void to him- and with the death of Bellamont? He was no longer family at the time of his death, wanting and wishing harm on the Brotherhood.

So there was peace in knowing she would not invoke the wrath of Sithis, but on the same note... She would never be able to serve Lucien again. That was her purpose for living- or so she believed. It would all be over soon.

Slumping back against the rock, a blood trail was left in it’s wake. Surrounded by her brothers and sisters, she gave in to her fate.

“Silence then? It’s better this way sister… as at least you will die the way you have always lived,” the same brother spoke, stepping forwards to render a killing blow.

“Cease your actions this instant!” Lucien barked, catching his siblings off guard.

Grace’s head snapped to his direction, a confused brow furrowing, “Brother…?”

He motioned for Arquen to hand him the journal of the traitor Bellamont, and read aloud the entries inside- proving innocence for the residing members, and Grace- and proving her actions were in full heart with the Brotherhood. She’d saved them all, and protected their brotherhood from annihilation. A silent killer, and dedicated member- she did not once try to defend herself, and not once spoke of the truth that would spare her life at the expense of another.

“So… our sister was….?” That very brother who was about to cut her down halted, and sheathed his blade, “Why did you not say anything?”

She remained silent as if to prove her point further. They would not have listened, nor would they believe her without evidence, which she’d left behind with Lucien to protect him in case they decided they’d been wrong about her. It was a small price to pay, and she relished in the toll.

“I see… well I don’t blame your silence, sister, I would be angry as well,” the Speaker nodded, before turning to Lucien, “Forgive us, brother… we… had no idea,”

“None of us did,” Lucien spoke, a bit angry with the events that had taken place, “It was the bastard, Bellamont,”

“Indeed,” his brother nodded.

Making his way to his small Silencer, he took Grace’s hand a moment and held it before a light magic spun around her body and begun to heal her wounds. A relief of warm, pleasurable, tingling sensations swirled about her, and she could only let a small sigh of relief leave her lips. 

She felt a pang of guilt wash over her. In her attempt to save him, he had once again saved her. Charismatic as he was, Grace could never hope to speak with such democratic elegance. Once healed she managed to kneel one more her head dipping to the ground before her.

“I… live only to serve… and my blade is yours,” she coughed, the remaining blood in her throat dissipating.

The unwavering loyalty was impressive if nothing else. This flattered the Speaker Lucien, and closing his eyes, he smiled, “Stand now, Grace- it has been a long day and we both are tired… let us make our way to the Fort and rest our heads,”

It was unheard of for Speakers and Silencers to share a home, but… when they thought back on the devastation they’d wrought on her shack by the Imperial City… it was no wonder that the man whose life she saved would offer his private quarters to her.

“As you wish Brother, let us be off?” she asked, that rare smile lacing her lips for the first time in days.

“Again, we are so sorry, my brother,” Arquen spoke, placing a hand on Lucien’s shoulder.

Removing the other’s hand, he scolded, “And I will say it once more, and no more after this- it is not your fault, and it never was- it was the traitor Bellamont and his vengeful ways- now, we should all turn in for the night, and leave this place- daylight will come soon, and we will all have much work to do now that this treason has been taken care of,” Lucien placed a hand on Grace’s shoulder, and motioned for her to follow- Ferragut was a long way from their current position, and they were both achingly tired.

X x X x X x

It was sunrise when the two finally arrived back at Fort Ferragut, and once they had, Lucien immediately changed into something more comfortable than his heavy, enchanted robes. Tossing the robe over a chair, he kicked off his boots, and his pants followed. Upon his bed, nestled in the corner, was a pair of slacks with a tie string, which were immediately grabbed and tossed on.

Grace never really removed her clothes, instead vying to keep them on her person. Standing at attention, she waited for Lucien to change. Once he had, she watched as he sat upon his bed, and he offered her a place beside him- after all, it wasn’t like he could trust anyone else to be that close after the events of the day.

“Please, sister, have a seat beside me- you can rest your head here for the night,” he patted the seat beside him, and smiled- as if to reassure her she was fine.

Nodding, she took her place beside the other, leaning forwards a bit and crossing her fingers one over the other, “Thank you for allowing me to stay for the night,”

“Of course… your home is in shambles, and it’s the least i could do for you saving my life, dear sister, for you have proven yourself time and time again to be loyal. You my well being as well as the wellbeing of the Brotherhood into account in everything you do,” a yawn left his lips soon after he’d settled down.

“You’re tired… you should get some sleep,” Grace murmured, her eyes looking at the small trails of sunlight leaking through the grate above Lucien’s tower.

“As should you,” the Speaker chuckled, before laying down upon the bed, his eyes heavy and his body weak- he’d lost a lot of blood today…

Grace watched over his sleeping form, her half-lidded gaze never leaving him. Running a hand over his now blanket-covered legs, she gave a small squeeze at his calf. She wanted to reassure him she would still be here when he awoke.

“I will sleep soon, I just need to get comfortable first,” she explained, before walking over to the secret door and climbing up the ladder that led out.

She just wanted to clean her armor and face- being coated in blood, she didn’t wish to stain his bed. The easiest way to accomplish this being to fully submerge her body in the chills of the pond. A cool wash of waves kissed her body- washing the heat from her sore legs and arms… hopefully this would help her muscles as well…

After making sure herself and her outfit were clean, she ducked away into Lucien’s hideaway once more, grabbing her sack from the floor and tucking herself in a corner. She did have a set of clothes she could wear- a gift from one of her sisters in the brotherhood. A pair of silk pants, and a long shirt to match- she had no idea where Ocheeva had gotten it- but it was best not to ask- after all, never look a gift horse in the mouth.

Sliding into them, she took a moment to actually size them up- a bit big length-wise but everything else lined up fairly well. She’d have to remember to thank her sister again for such a nice gift… perhaps she’d get the Argonian something in return? Some poisoned arrows or… perhaps jewelry? Everyone loves jewels, after all.

Once she was settled, she made her way to Lucien’s bed, curling up at the foot- not wanting to take up too much space. Lucien needed more sleep after such an ordeal after all- he’d been wounded. She had as well, but hers weren’t as serious.

It took a moment to actually settle in, tucking her feet under her body and her arms under her torso before closing her eyes for sleep.

“What are you doing?” Lucien’s voice called to her, slightly groggy.

“Trying to sleep?” she mumbled a bit, snuggling further into herself as she did so.

“...At… the foot of the bed? If you didn’t wish to share a bed you could have told me- there are no secrets between us after all,” he chuckled, sitting up to give her more room.

“I promise you it’s not that…” she retorted, staying in her lain position.

“Then do please tell me why you’re sleeping at the foot and not beside me? I would do nothing to harm you- nor would I make unwanted advances…” he pressed the question a bit more, his eyes lingering on her with a bit of concern.

“It’s not that either- I just, don’t feel that one should sleep next to their master- unless it’s earned…” she sighed.

Lucien had to keep a straight face at the comment. Not earned a place at his side? To sleep? Granted he would have slept next to very few assassin’s, but she was definitely one he trusted enough to do so!

“That’s… silly my dear,” he shook his head, “You are not a slave anymore remember? You are but an equal now… so come, lay beside me and let me warm you- you’re wet and the chill will cause you to catch your death,”

Without argument, she obeyed- getting up and placing her head- almost comedically squished up against his shoulder. Wrapping an arm around his waist, she let out a small puff of air.

“You’re warm,” was her dull reply.

“Of course, I’m always quite warm dear sister- now, enough of this- we need rest… there is still much for us to do in the following days, and we’ve barely caught any sleep,” he scolded before laying down, and having the elf snuggle down as well, her wet locks falling into his face, “Where did you bathe? I don’t have a tub for such things currently…”

“The pond out front- no worries no one was around- so your hideout is safe,” the elf began to get comfortable, pulling the loose strands of hair from under her to avoid either of them pulling her locks while they slept.

“I see… not a bad idea- I’ll bathe tonight once we awaken, as I am a bit too tired to move at the moment…” he admitted, propping his head atop hers and lacing an arm around her waist, “Is this alright? Are you comfortable?”

She bopped her head upwards, as if to confirm, “Yes, thank you,”

With another nod, he pulled the blankets up around them. “Good- now, rest up… we have more to do tonight,”


	4. Business as Usual

Rest came easy from the events of the previous day. Night welcomed them in it’s cold embrace, and wrapped them up in a comforting blanket of it’s own.

Stirring from her slumber, the elf blinked slowly, her eyes not quite adjusted to the light as she awoke. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she nuzzled a bit closer into the body in front of her- Lucien. By the Nine, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief wash over her in knowing he was alright. Her body so relaxed around him now it was hard to believe she felt so rigid in his presence to begin with.

She had to get up… though admittedly she didn’t want to.

“Sleep well?” the deep voice almost echoed in the eversilent tower room.

Mhmm,” she mumbled, tucking her head into his arm a bit more, before turning her head sideways.

Honey eyes met with her’s and for a moment she felt like she’d melt. The man she’d so desperately wanted to keep safe, to take care of and never let the world see… he was protected. Secure and assuredly safe. She couldn’t have been more lucky.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, she let out a sigh and squeezed, pressing her head closer to him, letting an ear rest on his chest.

Thump…. Thump…. Thump….

The fact she could still hear his heartbeat made her so warm and content.

“You’re very affectionate tonight,” teased the Speaker, his hands wrapping tightly around her as he nuzzled deeply into her hair, and taking in the sweet smell of her, “Seems you’ve also taken on the smell of my apples… have you partaken in them by mistake again?”

“...No, I haven’t actually, so the fact I smell of them is slightly concerning,” she chuckled, looking up and finding herself scraping her forehead a bit against his morning scruff, “...you… on the other hand seem to have grown a forest overnight-or day rather,”

Lifting the hand he had draped over top of her to his face, be rubbed the rough stubble on his face and let out a soft sigh, “Yes… it does seem to grow quite quickly,”

There was another heavy silence before it was broken once more, “We should get up and start our night,”

With a cheerful nod, he agreed, “Yes, the Night Nother should have plenty for us to do now that we’ve recovered,”

X x X x X x X

Grace had reported to the Cheydinhal sanctuary soon after the events- making sure her instincts were indeed correct in that none of her siblings were to blame for the treasonous acts. So far, it seemed she was correct in trusting her instincts. Everyone went about their business, there were no inside slaughtering of the others, and they all seemed happy and content to speak with her on any secret matter- so long as the contract permitted it.

Trailing her way down the dank, but comforting embrace of shadows the sanctuary provided, she found herself letting her thoughts wander to Lucien and the time spent beside each other the previous night. The warmth of his body against hers, the feeling of his breath lightly tickling her chin… she had known him for a little over a year, and she was happy just to experience the tiny things he had given to her without realizing it.

“Sister, you are daydreaming.” Ocheeva broke the elf from her thoughts.

“Ahh, yes sister, just recalling the events from yesterday, ” She offered a bit of truth to the other.

“The incident with Speaker Lucien correct? I should thank you for your intervention- or we would have lost not only a valuable member of our brotherhood, but…” the Argonian’s gaze fell to the floor a moment, eyes closing. “I would have lost a father- as would my brother.”

There was an affectionate exchange of hugs, the emerald sister embracing her elven sister a brief moment, a tight embrace showing her appreciation. There were no words that could explain her gratitude and Grace acknowledged this fact.

“How go your contracts?” Grace inquired, a snowy brow raised in curiosity.

“They fair well, recently took on a contract for a family of Khajiit- easy enough to drown a cat that cannot swim,” she laughed.

“The Kajeet couldn’t swim?” Grace sounded surprised.

“No- paralysis caused by a neck injury- an unfortunate fall from his house while spying on his neighbor… tsk tsk tsk… such a shame…. Those balconies have such weak railings when the building is so old,” there was a malevolent grin crossing her scaled lips.

Grace could only laugh a bit in response, “Yes, absolutely terrible,”

X x X x X x X

Lucien had lain out his latest contracts for Grace to find, turning in the others to his Cheydinhal siblings. With that done, he sat down to begin his recordings of their successes and failures- if there were any, of course. His Sanctuary was one of the few who had losses, with the exception of the inside killing of the other members when Bellemont was inside.

Stopping a brief moment, he recalled a single contract- one he’d received before the gathering of Grace- an reward left unclaimed because a young woman had stolen the contract out from under his nose- or rather, from under his Silencer’s nose. She was one of the reasons that Silencer is now dead- him having gotten in the way of her and her personal vendetta.

A sigh left his lips, “And then the Night Mother called me to find you- and I came to know your story.

The memory was fresh in his mind. A simple pull of her bow had rendered his Silencer dead, him having stepped between her and her target.

“Fool…! You messed up my shot! It took me weeks to perfect that poison,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Lucien remembered seeing the event take place, and being both angered and intrigued.

She bounded through the lines of people, thrusting her body from the ground to leap into the air and fire a round of arrows, hitting each mark in the throat and sending them to their graves. Still she bound after her target, her prey, the brotherhood contract- and drew her bow once more, the arrow nailing them in the back.

The poor bastard hit the ground before he realized what happened, his legs unable to move. 

As the elf approached him she placed a foot upon his back, twisting the heel before bending down to grasp the arrow and ripping it from it’s nest within his spine. Eyes narrowed, she dropped the arrow before gripping the back of his head and slamming it into the ground, and giving a scoff.

“P-please! Let me live!” the Brenton sobbed, his eyes glistening with tears.

“How's it feel to live in fear?” her face was emotionless as she held him there.

“Oh god… oh god please! By the nine I- I’ll give you anything!” he pleaded.

“I’m glad we’ve come to an understanding,” she smiled, standing up, and drawing her bow- before shooting him point blank in the skull.

After that Lucien recalled the guard had captured her- or rather, she let them catch her. At that point in time there was no consideration of recruiting her, but merely a raw fascination with the elf. How fluidly she’d taken out all of the guards and her target, and it was a shame she wasn’t a sister.

The rest was history. The Night Mother calling the Listener to her side. Sending the request for Lucien to recruit her, and her eventual joining of the brotherhood. It all fell into place so evenly, almost as if it was fate.

Taking the contract in his hand, he opened the book of Sithis and placed the paper inside to hold his memories- ones that now seemed to dance around within his skull as of late.

It was at that moment that the Listener approached Lucien in his home, “Brother, it is good to see you again”, his face was pale.

Lucien looked a bit surprised with the intrusion, “Brother, what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

“Business as usual unfortunately- ahh, and Lucien?It involved the Night Mother, and she has an order for you,” he sighed a worried look to his face.

X x X x X x X

Another one bit the dust.

Grace watched as the latest target dropped within her sights. It almost seemed as if they didn’t pose much of a challenge now that the true threat was gone. Her muscles didn’t even hurt anymore- and she felt much stronger now. With a smile she holstered her bow, and began to head back to the sanctuary for rest.

The Sanctuary. Such an appropriate name for the place of salvation. The place that housed her, fed her, cared for her, called her family- and led her far away from the harsh life she was leading, once upon a time. 

Crossing the bridge near Crestbridge Camp, she stopped to stare at the crystalline waters below. Small perch and slaughterfish danced beneath the surface of the water, and seemed oblivious to her presence. Sighing contentedly, she leaned on the bridges edge for a moment to rest. It had been quite the journey to get here.

“Sister,” an all too familiar voice called out to the elf, causing her to turn around in a bit of shock.

“Lucien? It’s odd to see you outside of the fort,” she smiled, closing the distance between them to envelop the other in a loving embrace.

He always smelled so good… of apples, and nightshade. 

“It is good to see you as well, have you been well?” there was a bit of uncertainty to his voice.

“Yes…? Is something the matter my Speaker?” Her worry grew by the moment.

Lucien leaned against the railing, his face scrunched up in a mixture of frustration and worry. It was as if he didn’t know how to present the answer- or the question running through his mind. It was something he had to bring up delicately, seeing as the Night Mother herself had presented him with this… well… whatever he’d make of it…

She had her reasons, he was sure of it- there had to be reason.

“Would you marry me?” The question came out suddenly, and the words made his stomach tighten.

Grace's mouth opened and closed, as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t. Looking to the ground she thought a few moments before she spoke, “This… is rather sudden- my Speaker… is… there a reason?”

“The Night Mother has another duty for us to fulfill,” he admitted, a sigh leaving his lips.

‘Ahh, there it is… the reason he’d ask such a question… Lucien doesn’t seem the type,’ Grace pondered her thoughts before looking back to his eyes once more.

“Do you wish this of me?” The question was more asking if it was an order.

“I would appreciate it if you did,” he admitted, “I would rather not incur the wrath of Sithis from disobeying a direct order from the Night Mother,”

Then that settled it. If he ignored the order he would surely have to deal with the consequences of her actions. It was bad enough he’d suffered because of her negligence…

“Then I accept,” there was a smile lacing her lips though… it wasn’t truly a happy one- more sad than anything.

Lucien’s eyebrows scrunched at the sight, knowing this arrangement wasn’t the best… surely she should have been free to marry whom she wished- if she ever did. It hurt his heart to think he was forcing this on his dear sister- bound by the void- and soon under Sithis himself. Mara may have been the goddess of love and marriage, but this wasn’t a union of love- but of convenience. The worst part being, that it was to conceive a child that would be born a natural assassin- for with their heritages, the child would be a true dark brotherhood addition to be reckoned with.


	5. Fear

So this was it. There was to be a wedding held within the week, and it gave Grace all the time she needed for preparations, telling guests whom would be what for their ceremony, as well as gathering supplies for the ritual in general. A marriage under Sithis was far different than one under Mara- as it wasn’t as simple and it was a far greater pledge than what one would give normally.

First off, one would need to gather a human heart, a nightshade, and craft a virgin blade made from ebony ore. The wife would gather the nightshade, the husband would gather the heart, and both would be held responsible for crafting their own blade. The nightshade would be used to decorate the bride's hair, and would often be tucked behind the ear or tied in with a braid- beautiful but deadly. The human heart represented the two’s life together, their time beating steady like the beat of a heart. The knife symbolized the dedication to one another, as both parties would take their knife and stab it into the beating heart, as if to show they would never be truly separated- as they were connected for eternity through the void.

Once married under Sithis- you were eternally bound to one another. There was no ‘til death do us part’, more like ‘In the void we are bound, in death shall we reunite,’. Which in essence meant that once you were married, you could not get remarried- nor could you bed anyone else. Some viewed this as cruel, while others view it as terribly romantic- but for two souls who were not sure the relationship between them? It was hard to say how they felt about the whole union.

Grace had picked Ocheeva and Antoinetta to be the ones who stood beside her for the wedding, as they served as her shadow- and her protection for the occasion. It was a custom from ancient times when the brotherhood’s practices weren’t so well hidden. Lucien had chosen Teinaava and Vicente to be at his side- for similar reasons.

Now she simply had to wait, as Ungolim was to be the one to give the sermon, and had to prepare the ritual to speak the words given to him by the nightmother. The whole process was a little unnerving to say the least. Grace merely wanted to keep things the way they were- with her hunting down targets for the brotherhood and serving Lucien as his loyal Silencer.

She definitely didn’t wish to bed him, or… be in a loveless marriage. The thought of it all terrified her. There was a part of her that may very well admit that she loved him, but she wasn’t sure the kind of love she held. Nonetheless, she wouldn’t put his head on the chopping block because she was uncomfortable. No. she would loyally serve him till…

Till he died.

That thought struck a chord with her. Grace was young for an elf… a mere two-hundred and seventy years old- putting her at about twenty seven in elvish. While her soon to be husband was well into his late thirties, or early forties- if his raising two argonian infants had anything to say about that. The point was… he would die far sooner than her, and she would be doomed to live the rest of her long years alone… It was not something she wanted in the slightest.

Settling herself on a trunk by her bed in the Cheydinhal sanctuary, she hid her face. Feeling the cool chill of her fingers on her warm face relieved her worries, but only for a few moments.

“Oh dear… you look shook up? Is there anything I can do to help?” gazing up from her palms, Grace saw the voice belonged to Antoinetta.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing too big sister… just… pre-marital jitters I suppose…” she chuckled, before sitting up a bit more straight.

“Oh, with Lucien no less… I suppose I would be a bit jittery as well… not many of us know of his private life, let alone his intimate life… you best use some potions dear sister, it calms the nerves beforehand and gets rid of the pain of intercourse,” she nodded, “Not that I think Lucien himself would harm you… he’s always been so kind to us here at the Sanctuary- not much of a talker despite being a Speaker,” 

Grace’s brows furrowed as she tried not to crack a smile, “Did you just…?”

“Perhaps,” she smiled, patting the other on the shoulder, “You’re too shook up dear… take a nap, rest, gather your strength… you’ll be fine! The wedding is in less than three days now, but you have plenty of time!”

“T-three? I thought I had a week…?” she gathered her composure a bit more as she tried not to look stunned.

“That was a few day ago dear… you’ve been so busy I doubt you’ve even had time to rest! You must not’ve realized how much time had passed!” she joked, though Grace found it to be no laughing matter.

“I...I… am going to go out for some fresh air,” she swallowed a bit, leaving her sister without another word.

Free running through the forest was a favored pastime for the elf. She ran till her lungs threatened to burst, and then even further. Her feet would barely touch the ground as she flew over the grasslands of the wilderness around her- where she felt most at home- for it had been her home for so many years…

Taking a deep breath, she had finally stopped. Panting, she let the beads of sweat roll down her forehead and onto the dirty rubble beneath her feet. Eyes glazed over with the threat of tears. 

Wiping them away, she forced her expression back to it’s default- straight face. She had to keep those emotions under wraps, for those who found weakness pounced like wild beasts- and she couldn’t risk it. Her throat hurt from trying not to let those weakened emotions slide, and soon she found herself collapsing to her knees, and looking into the small pond where she’d ran those several nights ago. Her special place beneath the stars where she thought she’d die that fateful day.

Dipping a hand into the cool surface, she let the water dance around her fingers. The small minnows seemingly twirling with her fingers in an aquatic symphony. The stars twirling on waves that her palms created, and soon being greeted by her dear friend the moon.

Splashing the water onto her face, it help to keep the tears back. Her throat tightening a bit more with each splash. She just wanted the whole thing to stop… She was able to handle most things- death, loss, even her own mortality- but this? Being married to a man who would never love you back… it seemed almost cruel. She was a brotherhood associate yes, she was a killer, and a taker of lives…

But she was only mortal. She still felt the pain in knowing her life would soon no longer be her own- and she feared the night to come after.

“Grace? Are you alright dear sister?” why was it he always knew?

Turning to face Lucien, she let her eyes fall to his, before looking away, “Yes, I went running and I needed to cool myself off- so I came here,”

Lucien could sense the lie, but he would inquire more into it once she’d settled down. 

Walking a small bit of ways down the hill, and settling himself beside her, he looked into the watery waves- and saw the reflection of the moon. For some reason she always came here, and those reasons were unclear. Perhaps it was the simple sound of the creek nearby? Or maybe it was the small swishes of water that lapped at the edges of such a crystal clear pond? Or moreso… perhaps the dancing fireflies themselves made a show to beautiful to resist?

“Why did you come all the way out here?” she was curious to his motives.

“I was worried,” he stated bluntly.

“Worried?” Grace smiled, as he was still the caring brother she had come to know after all… though maybe with other hidden motives.

“Yes, I heard from one of our sisters you ran off into the night in a cold sweat… perhaps you’re getting cold feet?” he chuckled, as if to joke at the fear, and idea in general.

She didn’t reply. It was true.

“I’m sorry you were forced into this- it’s just as much my fault… and it wouldn’t have happened should I have just accepted my fate… but… then again Bellemont wou-” he was cut off by a punch from the other.

His eyes widened a bit in shock, a small bit of blood dribbling from the corner of his lip. It wasn’t as if it hurt- given his gift from Sithis, but it was still shocking to say the least- and very much out of character of the other.

Before he could reprimand the other, she was soon snuggled into the crook of his arm- white hair tickling his nose.

“You would honestly leave me without purpose again?” the words were harsh, but soft. 

“Leave you without purpose?” Lucien mused the idea, “My dear your duty would have been to the brotherhood after I passed…”

“No, I swore my allegiance to you- through you I server the brotherhood… I had already discussed this, and though it may seem blasphemous from your point of view, it is something you have to just accept,” her voice stayed quiet, and it almost seemed as if it would soon disappear.

“Dear Grace, why is it so hard for you to serve our family without me? Tell me,” he sighed, lifting her face up to see her eyes brimming with tears.

With a thumb, he wiped them away, and tucked the other closer to his body, rocking her gently back and forth at a slow steady pace. She didn’t make a sound, but he could periodically feel more wet droplets splash his hand. Once she’d settled down a bit more he asked again.

“Grace? Why won’t you serve our family without me?” his voice was deep and soothing as he spoke.

“Because without you I wouldn’t have my family, you gave me a purpose the day you chose for me to join this lovely family, and… you make the past not seem so real,”

He had to ask, “Grace…. What exactly happened? I knew you were hunting the Honeyman family when I first encountered you… but I’ve never stopped to ask…”

There was a pause, and her fist clenched the dirt beneath her palms in a nice clump, “You… really want to know…” it was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, please… enlighten me on how you became such a brilliantly beautiful killer- and as silent and gorgeous as the night,” he pressed his lips to the top of her skull, giving her a few pecks to help sooth her.

“Alright,” she spoke, her voice now as empty and dead as a corpse.

Grace regaled the night she’d first left the Honeyman family. She was no more than fifteen years in elven. Forced to taste the patriarch’s dish and have her stomach churn against her at every waking moment as she wished for her death to come, and it never did. It was how she’d grown immune to the poisons that she now came into contact with on a regular basis.

But that wasn’t all. One lie got her into trouble. The head of the house consuming a poisoned plate of food, and it resulted in his death, and the sons and family were distraught. 

“You little wretch!” the eldest son screamed, his teeth grinding as he hit the elven teen with a mug- and shattered it upon her forehead, “It should have been YOU to die! Not my father!”

“I’m sorry! I’m so, sorry!” she begged for forgiveness, and still the family would not forgive her- after all their father was now dead.

“Sorry? No… that isn’t sorry… I’ll show you sorry!” the second son had screamed, gripping the young woman by the hair as they dragged her into their father’s hunting room.

While their mother was a mess of tears, that’s when the horror truly began for the young elf. The brothers ripped away her clothes, and beat her, leaving dark purple bruises on her body, and long lashes, and deep wounds in her flesh. The place they shoved their father's hunting knife would haunt her for the rest of her years, causing an unnatural bleeding from her core. 

So much blood began to pool, and it took everything she had to gather up her energy to get up and find a health potion to cure her wounds. But by the time she managed to heal herself the damage had been done, both physically and mentally. Thin snowy lines now laced her stomach, and long gruesome scars cut into her most delicate areas below- and by the looks of how they were, it would be a miracle should she ever conceive a child after that.

Grace swallowed hard, her eyes now closed tightly shut, “So… I spent the following years hunting down the entirety of the Honeyman family, up until the day I met you- when I killed the last one… and lost my will to live,”

Lucien’s brows softened, “I thought you said you lost your purpose?”

“What’s the difference?” she half joked, before her face returned to the blank one from before.

“Is… that why you fear me my dear sister? Do you worry I will harm you as those men did so long ago? Or that I will find your body grotesque and deformed?” Lucien was forward with his words, but they needed to be said.

The words along made the other tuck away into his chest, hiding her feeling and expressions from him. Her silence said it all however.

“My dear… I will never harm you- for you are to sweet and precious to me… I gave you all my love and affection and trust the day you became my Silencer… and I will continue to do so while you are my wife,” he reached around the other to place her onto his lap, and gaze into her eyes, “Your body is a home to scars, and history, and hard work- I will lavish every inch of it when the time comes, and I will not think less of you for the harsher marks upon you,”

Placing a hand around the back of his dear Silencer’s, he pulled her head close to his, before pressing his forehead carefully to hers. An almost silent promise being made in that moment, as the other’s tears still fell. With a free hand he continued to wipe them away.

“Our love may not yet be what I wish it to be, but one day I will love you as our Dreadfather loves our Nightmother- but like all love, it takes time- and for now, I can promise you the love I have for you as my dark sister? It is just as sincere…” Lucien purred, cradling the woman close, and whispering encouragement and sweet reassurance into her ear.


	6. Contract Completed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to thank everyone who's been reading the fic thus far! I'm trying to really dig into the meat of the story here soon, but at the same time keep it paced and super fluffy (Cause Dark Brotherhood fluff is my crack I'm sorry) so keep a lookout!

It wasn't long before the fateful day arose. Flowers decorated the halls of the Cheydinhal sanctuary and guest from many a sanctuary lined the walls. For some it was the first time they'd met other members from different Sanctuaries. Then again, it wasn't often that there was a wedding to be had.

“Are you nervous?” Lucien chuckled, gripping his bride's hand in his just a little bit tighter.

“Yes,” was her simple answer. 

“No need to be dear sister, it is only a ceremony… Nothing intimate will come from this, and I reassure you, I will force nothing upon you,” his thumb rubbed the top of her hand as they stood and awaited their cue to walk the aisle.

With that the music began to play, the erie tune of an organ playing in the background. It seemed almost ghostly, but all the same beautiful. With a shaky sigh, the two began their walk down the aisle.

All eyes were on them- as it was a special occasion. It wasn’t often that a speaker of the black hand would come forth and marry. Even more rare, that it was blessed as an unholy union by the Nightmother. As clasped hands held fast together, the couple finally found their way at the end of the aisle, and in turn, began to face the Listener as they read the vows.

“Dear brothers and sisters, we are gathered as one today, to honor and serve our nightmother- but also to congratulate and celebrate two of our siblings in darkness into their new lives together, through the eternal bonding of their souls…” the Listener continued, his nose wrinkling a few times as he recited memorized words.

Everything in the ceremony seemed to go so quickly- from the words they spoke, to the ceremonial sacrifice to be made to the other. It was an odd feeling and experience altogether. Once the final piece of the ritual was complete, the Listener closed his book and finished his last few words.

“Through the bond of the Void you are eternally bound, you may now bestow a kiss to your beloved,” and with that he settled the book back into it’s place at the podium.

Grace let her eyes wander to Lucien’s a brief moment. Drowning in the honey of his eyes, she could only hear his breath, only see the warmth he wore on his lips. He was enchantingly handsome- if nothing else, and was always incredibly kind to her. An audible gulp left her throat, the cold shiver of nervousness running jagged down her spine… it made for a nerve wracking moment.

But Lucien made no such move to force a kiss upon her lips, but instead moved towards her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead- lips lingering on her cool skin a moment. He trailed the kiss to her temple, and then to her cheek- the scratchy feeling of shadow on his face just barely noticed by the blushing bride. Pulling away, he kept that warm smile upon his lips, before they parted, and gave a genuine smile. His smile was like a crescent moon- just barely visible, but illuminating and brilliant to behold.

Grace’s heart felt like it should burst. But she returned the gesture, and pressed her lips firmly to his cheek, earning a chuckle from Lucien.

“You’re very tight lipped my dear… and not in the good way,” he teased a slight bit, “Let your lips run slack, and gently pucker your lips… if you do wish to kiss me that is- I do not wish for any blossoming affection to be forced…”

Looking away, her brows scrunched as she gave a nod. She knew he meant well, but she couldn’t help but feel a slight bit embarrassed by her tight lipped kiss. She only hoped her next one would be a lot smoother.

With that the ceremony ended, and the celebration portion soon began. Brother’s and sisters of the brotherhood gathered around to bare gifts to the newlyweds- as well as congratulate them on their new union together. Ocheeva’s gift was one that Grace tucked away for safe measure- a potion to prevent pain during her first sexual encounter with Lucien- something she hoped could be held off as long as possible.

When all was said and done, they bid their farewells, and each sibling of the brotherhood soon made their ways to their respected sanctuaries- much to the Silencer’s relief. She was exhausted- killing her victims, and taking contracts- and even giant slaying felt like less a chore than a wedding…

“Are you ready to return home my dear?” Lucien’s voice rang through her ears, the humming of his voice snapping her from her thoughts.

“Yes… I am quite exhausted,” there was a weak smile behind her words.

Lucien gave a nod, offering his hand to the other, “Then let’s take our leave,”

Staring at the gloved hand a moment, her eyes lingered on his fingers. Delicate, long, and slender- good for wielding a blade, and striking down foes. How he got stuck in a technical office job was beyond her, and honestly felt like such a shame…

“Grace?” a brow arched, as the Speaker continued to offer his hand to the other.

“Y-yes, sorry… I was lost in thought,” she apologized, before taking the other’s hand and lacing her fingers delicately in his.

To be honest… she no longer knew what she would do. Their relationship was now- complicated. It was stuck somewhere between romantic and familial- an odd sensation- though she wouldn’t deny that she’d felt a bit… happy for the situation. He could only be called hers from now on- her husband. That thought alone made her smile deep inside, for now no one could take her dear Speaker from her- and he was forever hers and hers alone. 

“Grace, once we arrive home… would you like for me to prepare a separate room for you within my castle? I could do such- I don’t wish for you to feel uncomfortable in my presence, or for you to feel forced to sleep next to me,” he added a bit before letting his eyes look from the path before them, and into her eyes.

Grace’s head carefully looked towards her superior, her eyes never leaving his as she thought it over, “I… don’t mind sleeping beside you- we’ve done so in the past, so changing it now would be more awkward and weird than it would be if we kept that portion the same,” she admitted. 

“This is true,” he laughed a bit, covering his mouth with a free hand, “So be it, we shall share our bed,

Grace gave the other’s hand a light squeeze, walking the path to their soon-to-be shared home- Fort Ferragut.  
X x X x X  
Grace had unpacked a few of their things before Lucien had taken notice- stopping her in mid arrangement, “Ahh, my dear- we will actually be packing up more of our things,”

“Packing… up? Are we leaving?” she was terribly dumbfounded by the statement- was there a place they needed to follow up on? Even then she wouldn’t need all the supplies from the party…

“Yes, we will be moving to start another sanctuary- permanently,” Lucien added, his eyes a bit grim, and his expression a bit fallen.

“What… of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary?” the elf was trying to grasp at what he meant, “What of our sisters and brothers who reside there?”

“We will be taking a small few to start the new Sanctuary- which our new home will consist of you, myself, Ocheeva, Teinaava, and Vicente- all very capable assassin’s that will be important to our new home,” Lucien sounded very sure of himself, though it couldn’t be denied that he also sounded a bit… sad.

“Do the other’s know?” she couldn’t help but try to fathom how they were going to start a whole new sanctuary… where would they start a new one anyhow? Where would they go?

“Yes, they’ve been alerted of their move- and we will be moving before early morning tomorrow- so we need to get our sleep early tonight- for then we’ll make our way to Dawnstar in Skyrim.” he followed up by crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dawnstar… that will be our new home then,” her voice was uncertain, but didn’t sound at all as if she was questioning the other, “Once there…. Is that where we’ll begin to make arrangements and fit our new Sanctuary?”

“Yes, there is a small alcove by the ocean that would make for the perfect spot to set up a new Sanctuary. It used to be a mine, but we could easily arrange for the thieves guild to assist us in refurbishing it- and refitting it… it would take no longer than a few days at most, but until then we would need to lay low,”

“I see, very well then my brother- I will follow you to my grave if you so deem it,” she let her fingers dangle at her sides, fidgeting a bit with concern- for she knew the trip to Skyrim would be a long, and treacherous walk- but beneficial to their family- and most importantly, for Lucien.

Control over one's own sanctuary was a big deal, but to lead a group onwards to create a whole new domain for them to live? Let alone one outside the country? That was even more of an honor. Grace would follow him, and assist in his rise to greatness no matter the cost. After all, she’d sworn herself to him before marriage had ever become an issue.

“So… the morning… correct?” she just wanted to make sure once more time.

“Yes, early morning we will begin our three day journey to Skyrim,” he confirmed, before he began to head towards the bed, and strip off his armor in the process.

“I see, then… I shall be turning in for the night here soon as well, I don’t wish to be the other to slow us down once we take our leave,” she added.

The Speaker appreciated her willingness to listen to him, “Good, then prepare yourself for bed Grace, tomorrow we have a long road ahead of us,”


End file.
